


Someone as Lost as I

by OakwoodOuroboros



Category: In a Heartbeat (Animated Short)
Genre: 1800s, Alternate Universe - Victorian, Aristocrat Sherwin, Character Development, Character Study, Eventual Romance, Footman Jonathan, Gen, M/M, Master & Servant, OCs because there isn't enough characters in canon, Rat-catcher Jonathan, Warnings inside, angst as per, but with a certain equality, really slow burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-25
Updated: 2017-06-25
Packaged: 2018-11-19 00:46:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11302260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OakwoodOuroboros/pseuds/OakwoodOuroboros
Summary: Jonathan escaped London, but he couldn't get away from the urban life of Great Britain. At least now he has a place to go back to at night, but there still remains the fact that no matter how much he wishes to escape his past, it's still there, breathing down his neck.Sherwin is the Young Master of the great Payne household and has never had to go hungry. However, despite the luxury he lives in, there's something inherently wrong with his situation. Mainly that his only purpose in life is the one of a decoy, and eventually a scapegoat.Maybe they could help sort each other out, somehow.(Working summary)





	Someone as Lost as I

**Author's Note:**

> Here it is, yet another fic for In a Heartbeat! Yep, people who have actually been following me for a while know that I have never finished a chaptered fic before, but this time I’m planning on doing things differently! Yes, this time I’m actually planning on… planning! Yep, this’ll be updated every two weeks on Sundays (my time, that is Greenwich +1) and with a bit of luck I’ll be able to finish it before I have to get back to studying. Thanks goes to Isa for encouraging me to publish this faster than I would have otherwise. Anyway, hope you enjoy!
> 
> Warning: animal death, mentions of claustrophobia, emotional abuse

The city was cold, colder than London had been. As soon as his feet hit the paved street the boy shoved his frozen hands under his armpits, trying to chase away the chill that the last few hours had instilled in them. He was careful to step onto the busy street’s pavement, not wanting to be crushed by any of the carriages and various horse-drawn carts that thundered up and down the main road.

The sky was a mottled grey, maybe announcing rain, but with no certainty. This great expanse was interrupted at times by clouds of a different kind, clouds of grey smoke that drifted over the city before the particles that composed them dropped down in a veil unseen to the naked eye, but that would become to the long time-resident painfully obvious as window-ledges accumulated the soot and their lungs blackened over the years of breathing in the noxious atmosphere. Red brick, the norm for most constructions, stretched out as far as the eye could see, greasy stains of a darker colour accumulating around chimney-pots.

Jonathan’s upturned eyes sparkled with wonder at ever dank, dismal detail.

This was indeed not London. There were similarities, but he hadn’t expected to come across a place where he could escape all of them in this hell-hole of a country. No, he was away from London, from the poison, the oppressive mass of that first city. As such, part of the weight that had been laying on his shoulders lifted and he let out a long sigh. He then breathed in the rank air as if it was from the sweetest woodland and feasted his eyes upon the factory-riddled scenery like it was a master’s painting. His smile had passer-bys staring at him in wonder at this one sapphire-eyed gem of a person in this snake-pit of a city, but before they could get a better look at him, he walked off down a narrow alley, effectively disappearing from the street.

Uncaring of the raw sewage that seeped through the holes in his shoes, he marched with the same smile and a his head raised high. A rat skittered close by, and without even looking the animal’s way, he kicked it precisely and it collided with a wall, dying instantly.

The boy’s smile faltered and he lowered himself to the small corpse’s level, now lying motionless in a small puddle. Slowly, he reached out a hand and picked up the animal by the tip of the tail, the body lifeless and still warm.

Suddenly, he dissolved into soft laughter, eyes creasing with glee, and he let go of the animal before continuing on the way he had been going.

With this new city came a new life, and nothing remained to hold him down any more. At last, he was free.

* * *

“JO! GET BACK HERE RIGHT THIS INSTANT!”

Remembering his thoughts from two months ago, Jonathan rolled his eyes and just walked forward, out of the fiery seventeen-year old’s line of sight. Dealing with Jess just didn’t sound appealing this very instant, and picking up that handful of farthings he had been promised outweighed it soundly, in his opinion.

The street was covered in various debris, some of which were of organic origin, but despite the abundance of food for potential vermin, not a single movement could be seen between the rotting newspapers and occasional inedible cabbage core.

It only took him half an hour to get to the old trader’s shop, still open even though the sun was fast setting. In the short amount of time Jonathan had lived here he had managed to learn the layout of the city pretty well, and these streets in particular had little to no secrets left for him to discover. This allowed him to get from one place to another without much problem, helped in part by the fact that he never, ever got lost.

His raised hand rapped on the back door of one of the many shops that lined the alley. This was the underbelly of the busy street on the other side of the line of red brick buildings, the part that remained unseen and untrodden by well-tailored boots and brilliant white gaiters. The sound of the peeping-hole cover was heard, a few seconds passed, and then the door was opened to reveal a balding man.

“Thanks again, Terry,” he said, pulling the door back just enough to weave his arm out and let a handful of coins drop into the waiting palm. “Good job, as always.”

“ ’s nothing, sir. Call on me again if you got more pests, they’ll be gone quick as a flash,” Jonathan assured him, the use of the nickname making him smile.

“Of course. Now go back to yee little nest and all, streets ain’t safe these nights,” he whispered, his words explaining the door which was still halted from opening fully thanks to the chain still attached on the other side, ready to slam shut in the face of any threat that dared present itself.

“Don’t you worry for me, sir. I can take care of myself,” Jonathan assured him as a parting, his voice as soft as his wave as he set back off down the alley. On the way back, he killed a few more rats that didn’t know what was good for them, tucking the animal’s severed tails into his belt.

When he finally found himself in front of the peeling door to the shelter, he took in a deep breath, now setting aside his procrastination to deal head-on with whatever Jess was going to throw at him.

He knocked on the door, the same business-like knocks he had used earlier on with his latest employer, but these echoing differently through the sodden and somewhat spongy wood. There was the sound of some movement inside, the quickly-silenced cry of a baby somewhere in the higher floors, then the door opened on one of the smaller kids.

“Jess’s in the kitchen.”

Jonathan nodded at the kid. She skipped off somewhere deeper in the crumbling building, probably to the main bedroom area where the other children were waiting for her. The boy stepped in, mindful of the one wooden floorboard that had given way to the basement below and hung up his coat beside the six others.

The place their group occupied was quite small, just the ground floor of the building, but they had several things to their advantage such as a door that led outside all to themselves, a very efficient stove, as well as enough space so that it didn’t feel too crowded. The few holes and leaks here and there were easily and quickly patched up, and as long as they ignored the very suspicious sounds that the building made, whispering at night of lack of structural safety, they all felt pretty safe and comfortable here. Most important of all, the one thing that had convinced Jonathan to join the group were the unusually high ceilings for this kind of accommodation. It wasn’t perfect, but he felt just a little bit better here than he would have somewhere else.

By far, the kitchen was the most well kept room, with paint instead of whitewash on the walls and the toasty temperature chasing away the damp. Jess made sure of that. It was their room, the building’s heart, the place they would all regroup to eat and laugh and talk. However, this time, only one, rather unamused-looking figure sat in the chair nearest to the stove, piercing eyes flashing to him as Jonathan walked in.

“Jo, you’re back. Please sit.”

He listened to her and did so. It was a little eery, really, with the only light coming from a small window and the fire’s glowing embers, both of which reflected off her face at different angles and made her look more like a living corpse than a human.

“We need to talk,” she stated, face grave to match the lighting.

“I know, but I still don’t see the point.”

“I’m doing this for your own good, you know.”

Jonathan huffed, breaking eye contact for a moment. “I’m good at what I do. I don’t see why I should change my trade when people still need me around.”

It was her turn to exhale, a stray piece of hair that had escaped her sloppy bun dancing in the frustration-induced wind. “You’ll get sick, or catch something off those foul beasts you hunt and bring it back and kill us all. I don’t want that for the young un’s, myself, or even you.”

“You know that I’m fine at it, I’ve never had any problems with being bitten, or caught shit off fleas, or anything like that.”

“Well… you’re right. But now that we’re better off, you can afford to go out and find something else. I tolerated you going and catching rats when we were still risked being sent to the poor-house, but now I want you to try and get safer work. Something where you won’t have to dig through sewage to earn your keep.”

The boy thought it over for a second, then addressed her a small smile. He didn’t want to be difficult, she already had so much on her shoulders, and the fight he was putting up really was more for form rather than anything else. He had a reputation to uphold, after all.

“Fine. I’ll look around for something else, but I’ll continue killing rats until then. How do you feel about that?” he asked, turning clear blue eyes back her way. She didn’t break her stare away, too strong for that, but she did smile back at him, visibly more relaxed.

“If that’s the best compromise we can work, I’ll go with it, but you have to actually look for some. I don’t want you just saying that and never getting out of bed for nothing other than rat-catching.”

“We have a deal, then,” he concluded, stretching as he did. “Sunday tomorrow?”

“Yes. You know, I’ve never met anyone who can’t even keep track of the days of the week,” she joked lightly.

“As far as I’m concerned, only the seasons are important. All the rest… well, you know.”

They sat in comfortable silence for the next few minutes, the sunlight filtering through the window having completely disappeared now, leaving the two tired teens bathed solely in the warm light of the embers.

“Right, bed for me,” Jonathan proclaimed, breaking the silence.

“All right. Check that the young ‘uns are all asleep.”

“Will do that.”

He went over to the other room their little group shared, looking around at all the children, checking that all five little bundles of blankets were present and that they rose and fell in an appropriate way for a sleeping person. Treading carefully between them, making sure that he didn’t crush small fingers as he did, he got to his own spot and lay down, pulling his own ratty blanket around himself.

Time passed, but the boy didn’t go to sleep. Eyes open and lively, he waited, despite the tiredness of the week settling in and trying to pull him under into sleep.

What he considered to be a few hours passed by before his attentive ears caught the sound he had been waiting for. The creaking of floorboards were discrete and spaced-out, as if the person sneaking by was being wary of waking the people sleeping in the next room.

Only when the sound of the front door opening and closing was heard did Jonathan allow his eyelids to close and sleep to take over him.

He now knew for sure, but he wondered whether it was for the best, as he felt his guts clench painfully in worry as he fell into the void. Jess was up to something, and it was far from reassuring.

* * *

The next day, Jonathan was awoken by the shuffling of the young ‘uns, their sleep getting restless as dawn approached. As soon as he did, he got up and stretched, then immediately picked up the kid wriggling next to him and swung her around, a squeal then happy giggles escaping her.

“Everyone up! Time to get those faces scrubbed ‘till they gleam!” said Jonathan, just loud enough to rouse all the sleepy heads but not enough to disturb the upstairs neighbours, who could be a little irritable at times.

“Me too, big bro Jo!” said one of the others, and the older boy happily lifted the kid up in his arms, the other little girl still clinging to his neck. Soon, all the others requested to be held in the same way whilst the ones that he already had lifted up refused to let go and clung like leeches to his shoulders and arms.

The outcome was only to be expected: when Jess walked in, she was greeted with the sight of a mass of children and blankets, all piled on top of one laughing teen. She tutted, a smile growing on her face. Unfortunately, being the substitute mother that she was, she was going to have to interrupt the fun soon and get things on track for the day.

“Right, bath time everyone!”

This was, as usual, received with a lot of whining and complaining, but only one look was enough to quieten the group. Jess shepherded one of the girls into the kitchen, and Jonathan could only feel bad for her when he heard the splash of water and the child’s horrified squeals. Bathing was never a pleasurable experience: the water, left to heat on the fire during the night, was usually way too hot for the first person to be washed. It would gradually get colder and colder, as well as dirtier as one after the other Jess would scrub the week’s muck off of every kid in the group. Jess was always the first to suffer the most severe burns from the water however, as she would be the one to sacrifice herself for the first round of bathing. Jonathan, on the other hand, was always the last to take to the grey, icy-cold water due to his daily involvement with capturing and killing vermin, being also the only one that Jess left to his own devices when bathing and trusted with his own cleanliness. The last thing they needed was for one of them to get sick from something that he would have picked up dealing with the disease-ridden animals.

It didn’t take that long for everyone to get scrubbed down and cleaned to Jess’s taste, and they even had time to all eat a slice of bread before they were forced into their Sunday clothes.

Whilst all the kids ate, Jonathan took over and washed everyone’s week clothes. Jess was tired, her night visibly not having been of the best as she slumped in her chair and her eyelids drooped, sometimes perking up enough to readjust one of the members of their little family’s off-white shirt or stained dress, offering them a smile every time she did.

Again, once they were all done, the children had to be formed into a column and be escorted by the two older members of the group to their local church, which fortunately wasn’t too far from where they lived.

Jonathan sighed before entering the edifice, looking at it with a critical eye. It seemed small and lacked grandeur in comparison to the other buildings surrounding it, only the white stone differentiating it from the rest of the constructions in the neighbourhood. The inside was large and hush-worthy, but spacious enough. The sound of the light drizzle they had been walking through outside could be heard over the patter of feet and the rustle of coats, everyone still shivering from the permanent cold that the foul weather had brought upon the city.

They sat at the back as usual, everyone finding their own spot that they usually occupied on the old wooden bench.

By now, it had turned into a formality, for Jonathan anyway. When the man came up onto the elevated stage and started delivering the sermon, he stood up when he was told to stand up, sat back down when everyone else did. He used this time he was being given to let his mind wander, the voice of the man whom everyone found important turning into background noise as he sorted through his own thoughts.

Jess was tired, more tired than usual, anyway, and he was absolutely certain that it had something to do with the slight sound of the door opening at night. The great purple bags she sported only proved his theory, the usual dark rings they had learned to know deepening and taking on proportions that Jonathan had never seen on anyone before. He wasn’t the only one to see this; the kids weren’t blind to her exhaustion either.

He was worried, he concluded. Jess tried to take on all this responsibility, but when he, as the second oldest, tried to take a little of that off her shoulders, she refused. Somehow, she managed to keep them all afloat with her meagre part-time maid’s job, taking care of the younger ones and making sure that they were all comfy enough, and of course they were all grateful for that. They would have probably all died by now if it weren’t for her.

By the end of the service, Jonathan had set two objectives for himself, to be completed in the next week: follow Jess’s advice and find a better job, maybe bring in a little more cash in and take a weight off Jess’s shoulders, but also confront her about her nightly escapades. There had to be a reason she hid them, and none of the ones the boy could think of off the top of his head could be good. This city is not kind to young girls walking at night.

His attention went back to the five kids when they exited the building and made their way back towards the shelter. As they got closer, Jess raised a hand to stop everyone. She then walked up to the building and looked in through one of the barred windows, trying to spy any suspicious movement, before she opened her mouth so that they could lip-read her next few words:

“It’s safe!”

This part of their routine, as ridiculous as it had first seemed to Jonathan when he had joined the group, wasn’t one to be taken lightly. More than once they had had to wait for robbers to leave the place when they had all set out so as to be able to get in safely. Of course, their stuff would be gone, but none of them would be hurt, at least.

“Jo, you’re staying here today. I’ll take the kids to the market, we need some more food.”

The boy nodded mutely at this, a little surprised that she was taking all the children with her. It wasn’t unusual for at least a few of them to set out to the market on Mondays, but it was much less common for Jess to take on all five of the youngsters at once.

“Are you sure?” he asked, raising a concerned eyebrow as he did. She moved forward and pinched his cheek in a rare display of affection, delivering her reply nicely as she did:

“Don’t worry, it’s better for them to stretch their legs in the park, let them run and play rather than stay cooped up here for once. Please, just stay and relax a bit. You deserve a bit of rest.”

She pulled away and went over to the kitchen to get some food together, a midday meal of sorts, while Jonathan was left to mull over what she had just said. It didn’t show on his face, but he felt very sad for this incredible person who took such great care of them all. She had his best interests at heart, it was his fault that he hadn’t told her and did not intend on telling that he would rather run around and become even more exhausted than he was already by running in the park rather than staying here in this closed space. She certainly was a heroine if there ever was one, even though her actions were rarely recognised properly.

He ate his bread in silence while the rest of the kids at the table chattered away, trying unsuccessfully to find a way to make Jess change her mind, to trick her into resting up on this one day off she was allowed and letting him take on her responsibility. None came to him; the boy was left to wave her and the five kids off at the doorstep without issuing a complaint.

Jonathan didn’t like staying in an empty house even less than in a crowded one. It was never quiet, not with the busy people walking through the streets outside and the creaks and cracks emanating from upper floors, but the fact that there was nobody around wore at his nerves. This place wasn’t supposed to be empty, but full of life and child’s laughter. It was a little disheartening.

A few hours passed by, and even though he knew that he was supposed to keep watch, he was starting to feel the pull of the outside, the urge to evade this place and escape the crushing of the roof and walls around him. Sighing, he got up and strolled to the door, making sure to pull it tight when he stepped out.

The alley was as quiet as the house, but at least the claustrophobia lifted off his shoulders. The sound of water trickling from broken drains from the previous light rain filled the space a little, as well as the far-off noises of horses neighing and merchants barking their wares at the local market, without doubt the place that Jess and the kids were touring right now. Jonathan was reassured, but there was something still pulling at his chest, a longing, an apprehension maybe.

The feeling was weird, but he knew it well. It was the same one he had felt so many months ago, the one that had finally convinced him to embark on that ship to Europe, and more precisely to Great Britain. At the time, he had thought that it was just something that went with his longing to get to said isles, and then his desperation to flee London for a different city. But this was new. This wasn’t accompanied by a strong motive of any kind, just a slight tug to his chest, nothing else.

Suddenly, the intriguing thought fled him when a flash of red and white shot past his legs, followed nearly immediately by something colliding with him.

More scuffles than he cared to admit having participated in meant that Jonathan had developed a stance strong enough to defy a bull, so he didn’t budge in the slightest when the unidentified object slammed against him. On the other hand, said object was sent reeling backwards, and in the instant, Jonathan’s only, visceral reaction was to shoot forward and catch them before the fall had time to come to its dramatic conclusion.

It was only when he found himself holding the person at arm’s length that he realised that this was a boy his own age, but also that his heart was currently hammering away against his chest and he wasn’t entirely sure that it was only because of the stress that the sudden action had just brought upon him. Quickly, he pulled the redhead to his feet and took a step back trying to compose himself, but not being able to tear his eyes away from him at the same time.

A few details caught his eye, like the fact that he was well-dressed, was breathing hard and was bright red from his race that had nearly brought him crashing to the ground. And he was looking at him too, an unreadable expression on his face that slowly morphed into some kind of gratitude.

“Thank you for catching me, there.”

“No problem,” Jonathan replied, looking away respectfully when the softened accent that the other boy spoke in proved that he was aristocracy. He continued talking, however, even when the poorer boy thought that he would be ignored immediately after the exchange.

“I’m Sherwin, by the way. Sherwin Payne,” he said, and an outstretched hand appeared in Jonathan’s peripheral vision. “And you?”

He grasped the offered palm, giving it a firm shake, now glad that he had time to wash up earlier on. He incidentally re-establishing eye contact with said person. “I’m Jonathan, but you can call me Jo or Terry if you want,” he said, automatically giving him the choice between the two names that were most commonly used to call him.

“Sherwin” still didn’t seem to have recovered from his near-fall, face bright red, handshake sloppy and eyes wavering, but he did manage to raise his eyebrows quizzically. “Terry? I don’t really understand why someone would call you that, not from your name, at least.”

“Ah, yeah,” Jonathan replied, pulling his hand back and raking it through his hair. “Long story short, it’s the nickname my bosses gave me. Terry like a terrier dog, you know?”

“If you don’t mind me asking… why so?”

Again, Jonathan dropped his gaze before answering. “I kill rats for a living.”

“Oh.”

The silence immediately turned awkward, but while Sherwin fumbled for words, Jonathan came up with something new to derail him. “What was that thing you were chasing, by the way? It was red and white.”

“Oh, yes! That’s my cat, Heart. She can be a bit adventurous sometimes, and she just jumped out of her basket and ran away while we were shopping,” he said, chuckling and raising a hand to tap his jacket. “She is a scoundrel, there’s no doubt about that.”

Jonathan thought for a second before tentatively dropping his suggestion. The redhead seemed like a nice person, after all. “Maybe I could help you find her? If she’s really as dastardly as you say she is, you might need some help.”

“Well, you are right… Yes, that is indeed a good idea.”

“All right, then. I’ll search over by those bins and you can stay on this side of the street and look for her along the front of these houses. She might be hiding under a porch.”

“That’s sound. Right, let’s get this done!”

In seconds, thanks to his pitch-perfect observation skills, Jonathan unearthed the cat from under a crate it had curled up under. The animal was a bright red from the neck to the tip of its tail, the only place not covered in the crimson fur a pure white, the heart-shape that it formed on her face justifying her name and reminding Jonathan bizarrely of a smiling barn-owl.

“Thank you very much,” Sherwin said while receiving the animal in his arms and hugging it close. The smile was unmistakable, one that told of the deep attachment that the boy had to his pet, and Jonathan couldn’t help but follow his lead and compassionately quirk his lips up as well.

“You’re welcome.”

A few more minutes were spent there, standing in the middle of the alley, both of the boys looking at the cat and simply enjoying the afterglow of a job well done. However, the taller of the two’s smile slowly slipped as he realised that this wasn’t his place. This person was not one he was supposed to mix with, not even supposed to communicate with under normal circumstances. For a brief moment there had been the idea of equality as they both worked towards the same goal, but now reality was catching up with the moment and Jonathan was reminded that they were not just two thirteen-year-olds: the other was a privileged person, a person destined to do great things, and he was a rat-catcher. The facts were there.

He turned around and made his way back to the house, the tug in his chest that had not manifested since he had caught Sherwin intensifying tenfold, trying desperately to hold him back. Slowly, morosely, he walked back to his front door and pushed on it, the wood escaping his fingers under the pressure and swinging open. He was about to take the step that would take him into the house, into his previous, uninhabited melancholy, when a voice rang out loud and clear, stopping him in his movement and prompting him to turn around.

“Wait! Erm, please wait, I mean.”

It was Sherwin, still holding his large ginger feline tight in his arms. He was red in the face again, obviously fumbling for his words and not quite meeting Jonathan’s eye. Finally, he managed to enunciate the sentence he had so much trouble forming, coming out a little stuttered despite the time he had spent thinking it through:

“We’re short on staff at home… well, not really… but no, what I wanted to ask is if you would be interested in becoming a valet? I-I mean footman, at our home? I know that you’re trustworthy…”

So that was what the pocket-patting had been earlier on, then. It made him a little sad that Sherwin thought of him as a pickpocket even though none of their little group were thieves, but if he only had his general appearance to base himself upon, he could understand his suspicions.

“...a-and you’re helpful and kind and… well...”

The redhead trailed off, readjusting the ball of fur he held to give himself a countenance. Jonathan thought it through for a second, remembering the conversation he had had with Jess the day before, hesitating still, but it was finally the uncertain, flustered look on Sherwin’s face, the somewhat hopeful gleam in his eye that won him over.

“It would be… a privilege to serve your family. However,” he added, once Sherwin’s face cleared and he looked up at him. “I cannot board. If I am to work at your home, I won’t be able to stay most nights. I’ve got people to take care of here...”

“That’s fine! We can talk that through later, but we must hurry now! Miss Liz is probably looking all over for me, I must head back. But please, come with me now, we must inform Mother immediately!”

Again, it was that look of absolute joy on his face that tore him. He was supposed to guard the house, but the chances of someone breaking in were so slim… If he was stealthy about it, he could get away for a few hours without Jess noticing.

“All right, I’ll come with you.”

“Perfect! Now to get to the main street...” the redhead said, striding confidently down an alley in the complete opposite direction of the place he said that he was heading for.

“Erm, I’m sorry, but I think that the main street is this way,” he said, cutting the boy’s stride short.

“Oh, right. Yes, I might have gotten a little lost chasing Heart… thank you.”

Jonathan smiled softly.

“You’re welcome.”

* * *

With Jonathan in front and Sherwin trailing behind, huffing under the weight of the animal he carried and the hurried pace they were travelling at, they zigzagged in and out of streets and alleys, the leader taking all the shortcuts he could think of to get to said main street while also trying to avoid the market where Jess was currently shopping.

Sherwin didn’t remark on the longer journey however, either not noticing or too out of breath to care. Finally, they emerged into the large open expanse that was the main street, the hippomobiles thundering up and down the straight road like fast-going boats along the width of a great river. Jonathan waited for the redhead to catch his breath, the cat in his arms purring contently, sounding a little like it was mocking its master’s lack of stamina.

“It’s… Over... There...” he managed to huff out between gasps. Once he had recovered enough to start moving again, they set out towards the place he had indicated, a shopfront bordered by two large Corinthian style columns that looked very white, and somehow flawless. Not something you would come across in the place he lived, certainly.

“There!” Sherwin said, walking at a faster pace now that he had caught sight of the person he had been looking for. “Liz! Miss Liz, I’m here!” he cried out, a little louder than before, attracting the attention of the lady in dark blue standing at the window.

“Young Master, where have you been?” she asked, her bored voice forcing out words clearly for form only, actual concern not bleeding through them in the slightest. She glanced away from the linen she had been contemplating through the window, her eyebrows raising very slightly when she saw the cat held loosely in the struggling boy’s arms, before they drifted over to Jonathan, careful as he was not to attract attention to himself.

“Master Sherwin, may I ask who this is?”

For the first time, an emotion crowbarred its way into her sentence, contempt spiking at the end like when one was unfortunate enough to bite through a pepper grain in a spicy meal. His eyes joined the maid’s as they jumped back to the redhead’s face.

He was nervous, withering under the middle-aged lady’s pointed look, reduced to shuffling his feet and readjusting the cat in his arms. “Well...”

“How many times were you warned against this? You are _not_ , under any circumstances, allowed to make any street-friends. It will bring shame to the entire family name if they saw you mixing with such people.”

The shuffling intensified, eyes dropping with his shoulders, trying to become one with the pavement below. Gradually, Jonathan’s stance evolved with his movement, but instead he straightened up as a cold rage took hold of him. This was unfair. This person was berating Sherwin as if he had done something wrong, and to add insult to injury, she was even managing to insult him as she did. Not that he cared much about himself; he had been to hell and back when he had been living in London, there wasn’t much left to anger him if insults were thrown his way. When it concerned others, however…

“Ma’am, please let me point out that you were letting this person you were obviously supposed to be chaperoning out of your sight for more than half an hour without raising any alarms, as far as I can see. He’s lucky to have run into me, a person honest enough to not attack him or mug him like many others would’ve if they were in my position.”

“It’s true!” Sherwin added, the other boy’s impromptu speech giving him enough courage to add his own arguments to the ones that had been offered to him already. “Heart had run into dangerous parts and I followed her, focused as I was chasing her. Then I bumped into Jonathan here, and he helped me find her and showed me the way back. Without him, I would have been stranded in an unfamiliar part of town and would’ve probably gotten more lost than I was already.”

The maid stayed silent, face creasing into a scowl, but she clamped her mouth shut when she prepared to say something more, rethinking her decision.

“Fine,” she finally announced in the emotionless voice that she had used when they first met up with her. “Whatever your story, I’m glad that you’re now back. We’ll be setting back home now; thank you Sir for your assistance, the Payne household will be eternally grateful for your help in this matter.”

She then shoved an oversized basket brusquely into Sherwin’s hands, then turned heels and set off at a brisk walk in the opposite direction. Jonathan was about to follow suit, recognising a dismissal when he saw one even though it broke his heart a little, but was stopped by an unexpected hand on his shoulder.

“Wait,” Sherwin ordered, self-confidence that he hadn’t known he possessed flooding his voice and freezing Jonathan instantly.

The maid, Liz, looked over her shoulder, now visible impatience touching at her features.

“Hurry up, Young Master. We’ll be late for tea if you...”

“No Liz. Jonathan’s coming back with us; I want Mother to thank him officially for his actions and to allow him an opportunity to serve and protect the Payne name further in the future.”

The appropriate word was thunderstruck, the other boy thought, as the woman’s face fell along with her jaw. She was obviously just as new to this side of Sherwin’s personality as he was, but had known him for far longer, and was therefore that much more surprised.

“A-as you wish, Master Sherwin,” she said finally, distractedly taking on her previous trajectory but not even glancing back at the extra person tagging along.

As soon as her back was turned the redhead seemed to deflate, immediately looking exhausted and very, very stressed. He shuffled cat and basket awkwardly, and Jonathan wordlessly held out a hand, ready to take either one or the other. He was given the basket along with a sheepish, somewhat nervous grin, the weight of the object surprisingly light as he held it out. The other boy raised the wicker flap, confirming the fact that it was actually empty, before dropping the big ginger cat into it. The feline immediately made itself comfortable, the head that had disappeared first into the depths reappearing after a few seconds, content grin and all.

They walked the length of the street to a place that was occupied by many carriages, a mix of static horses tethered to posts under their coachman’s watchful stare and ones nearly toppling over from the amount of luggage strapped to the roof, horses pawing and ready to leave. They stopped in front of one of them, Sherwin nearly colliding with Miss Liz’s back, his attention still being on Heart. The coachman jumped down from where he had been sitting in the driver’s box and pulling the door open for the three people ready to get on. Jonathan felt the man’s questioning eyes on him for a second before he entered the vehicle, but he remained silent and simply watched them enter.

The inside reminded Jonathan a little of the place he had called home a few months ago, bringing him back to a nostalgia-filled time that he would have rather forgotten. Light blue and delicate, cream-like browns gave the vehicle a rather feminine feel, very different from the solid black interiors that these kind of coaches usually sported. The inside was painted white, in stark contrast to the dark exterior, a colour that reminded him more of hot, breezy weather rather than Manchester’s chilly humidity.

He carefully lowered himself into a seat next to Sherwin, sinking into the cushioned leather more than he had first expected. From across the coach the maid was shooting daggers at both of them, not that the redhead seemed to care, face bowed down towards the cat that he was petting, now allowed freedom from her wicker chamber and to climb to her master’s knees. He was smiling, Jonathan observed. For some reason, that one fact made him immeasurably happy.

The ride wasn’t long: the clop of the horse’s shoes on the street’s asphalt slowed soon after they had reached their full speed. Jonathan wasn’t fooled, however. They were in all likelihood miles away from where they had left off, and it will probably take him quite some time to get back home if he had to do so on foot.

They came to a full stop at last, the whole vehicle jerking to a halt. There was then a slight rocking motion as the coachman got out of his seat before the door opened, framing a small path off the pavement where it had parked leading up to the highly-polished front door of a grand house. At that moment, just as Sherwin got up to get out of coach, Jonathan wondered whether he had just made a huge mistake. He was struck with doubt, unsure whether he would be up to the responsibilities that he was going to be given, whether he would still be able to see Jess and help her with the kids and her own issues. He shook his head a little before exiting the coach, following Sherwin out as he did. This was what Jess wanted him to do, and there wasn’t any doubt that this was going to be better paid than rat-trapping despite how good he was at it.

He took in a deep breath before he walked through the town house’s door, nerves getting at him, but nevertheless determined to not let it show. At least that was one thing he knew how to do without much difficulty. Keeping his face as blank and in-control looking as possible was one of the reasons for which he was appreciated and trusted, and who usually saw him as a natural leader, no matter how much of a turmoil hid beneath the surface. Indeed, as he had expected, the inside of the house was decorated in the same style as the coach had been: dark and a carbon copy of its neighbours on the outside, grandiloquent yet tasteful on the inside. He looked up from the white-painted old woods of the staircase at the compulsory chandelier, although this one wasn’t made of normal crystal, but rather coloured glass, the only real source of colour in the entire room.

“You can leave us now, Miss Liz. We’re home now,” said Sherwin, and although the order was implicit, he had taken back on his usual voice tone rather than the commanding one that had impressed them all so much earlier on. He bent down in order to lower the basket to the floor, the cat slipping out of it easily and going straight to Jonathan to rub against his legs.

“Please don’t take offense Young Master, but I do not wish to leave you alone with a near-stranger, no matter how much you trust him already,” she retorted, and Sherwin simply sighed, not defeated but rather slightly annoyed.

“Suit yourself. Jonathan, do you want to go and see Mother straight away? I’m sorry to have dragged you so far already, I don’t know whether you would maybe want to take a refreshment from the kitchen before we go up to see her?”

Jonathan shook his head with a small smile on his face, knowing despite his stomach’s quiet protestations that it was the polite thing to do.

“No thank you, I think that maybe the less time I spend here, the better. I do not want to burden anyone in this household with my presence for any longer than necessary,” he answered, and Sherwin nodded slightly in understanding. Despite the authority he supposedly held over her, he obviously feared the older lady’s wrath and didn’t in that instant feel necessary to counter Jonathan’s affirmation.

“Follow me,” he then said, taking the lead as he made his way up the stairs, tripping on the first step. Miss Liz snorted, Jonathan shooting her a look of contempt that she returned. Sherwin looked back, but both of them had had time to compose their faces into a neutral look for Liz and a small, encouraging smile for the other boy. The redhead returned it then tripped again on the next step up, this time over Heart that had decided to take a nap there.

Fortunately, they got to the top of the stairs without incident. A corridor led to the left and to the right, like in a miniature mansion, Sherwin taking the left-hand one. They soon stopped in front of a door that looked just like the next one to Jonathan, with the exact same mouldings and carvings in the wood as all the other ones in the corridor. Sherwin lifted a hand and rapped softly in the middle of one of the wooden panes, waiting for a second before he carefully, and somewhat reverently, pushed the handle down and entered the room.

Again, this room was painted white, a figure in a darker dress sitting in a chair in the middle of it, back turned to them and perfectly styled hair only visible part of her over the back of the high armchair she sat in. A bloodhound lying at her feet lifted its head, letting it drop immediately after.

“Useless watchdog.”

The voice had risen from the chair, sharp and clear. The dog immediately lifted its head up again, looked back in the direction of the door and let out a half-hearted bark.

“Come in, Sherwin, Elizabeth and whoever else is with you. I can’t see you from here,” the voice repeated irritably. Sherwin immediately jerked forward, as if pulled by puppet strings, whilst Liz and Jonathan followed at a more sedate pace.

Before rounding the chair which would bring him face-to-face with this mysterious person, he got a pretty good look at Sherwin’s face whilst it was turned, his full attention on the still-seated person. It was twisted in a nervous expression, one that definitely matched his own but managed to be even more intense, somehow. There was a longing there, a search for approval, one that obviously wasn’t satisfied quite as often as it should be.

“You better have a good reason to disturb me just before tea, Sherwin. What nonsense have you been up to this time? Climbing trees in the park again?”

“N-no mother, that’s not it,” he answered, shoulders tensing and rising in defence. “I’ve come here to ask something of you.”

“Something to do with the young man that’s here with you, I presume,” she sighed. “Make it quick. Tell me what’s going on, then leave me with Liz to change for four o’clock tea. We’re going to have guests around and I don’t want you interrupting us.”

So he told his afternoon’s adventures, stuttering at times, but the woman nevertheless listened attentively. Jonathan used the opportunity to observe the woman in the chair in front of him in closer detail, tuning out the conversation that he had already heard a likeness of before.

She was dressed as any other lower-ranking aristocrat would be, a simple yet ornate dress with a string of pearls sitting on top of the collar. She must have been in her fifties, however the nacre-encrusted cane stood leaning against her chair looked like it was used as an actual walking tool rather than a stylish accessory, speaking of health problems, as echoed by the numerous grey strands in her bright blond hair and the forming cataract in one eye. Nevertheless, she looked dangerous, as lively as a tiger.

“All right, that’s enough, Sherwin. Elizabeth, have you got anything else to add?”

She did, but this time neither of the boys dared interrupt her speech as she told the mistress of the house of her strong doubts and distrust. From the corner of his eye, Jonathan could see Sherwin’s face decompose over the seconds, becoming more and more desperate, and as before the other boy felt rage burn his gut at this sight.

“…and that’s all, Mistress.”

“All right, Elizabeth, you’re dismissed until I call you to help me change again. I want to have a private talk with my son and his friend here.”

Liz bowed a little then promptly exited the room, closing the door behind her.

“Now Sherwin, I want to know exactly why you want this street-rat to be rewarded, and more particularly why you want him to become part of our staff. No lying, I want the truth.”

The boy opened his mouth, brows creased and apparently ready to defend against the ‘street-rat’ insult, but then promptly closed it again, rethinking his decision. Finally, he sighed and admitted in a lower voice than before:

“I don’t think we get along well with Miss Liz. We did when I was younger, but now… It’s getting a little uncomfortable.”

“So you want me to employ another member of staff, a replacement for a particularly faithful maidservant that has been in this house’s service for countless years, with someone you just randomly found on the streets?”

“I’m not asking you to fire Liz!” Sherwin argued back immediately, but quickly lowered his voice. “No, it’s just that… she has so many other responsibilities since Nigel left, I find it unfair on her to have her take care of me as well as having to deal with keeping the house and everyone else in Iine.”

“I see… Jonathan, that’s your name, right? Come closer, you’re on my bad side.”

The boy was startled that the woman had addressed him at all, but quickly recovered nevertheless and moved over to the woman’s side where she still had a clear eye. He beckoned him closer, but suddenly, she snatched at his jaw with a strike as vivid as a cobra’s, roughly turning his head from side to side.

“Not bad,” she said to herself, letting go of Jonathan, not daring to take a step back. “How old are you, boy?”

“Sixteen, Ma’am,” he answered smoothly. It wasn’t exactly true, but adding two or three years onto his actual age had never been a problem before, so he decided to risk it now. If it earned him a good job in the end, it would be worth it.

She hummed in approval, hand absently straying to the bloodhound’s head and scratching behind its ear. A few minutes passed, Sherwin’s breath coming out bated and expectant and Jonathan’s mind following the same pattern.

“It’s true that you are getting to the age when it’s improper to continue being dressed by a woman, son. Maybe that a little change in company will help you get over all those things that make you such a disappointment. As for you,” she added, turning back to face Jonathan, who was slowly fuming under a very fake smile. “I’ll take you on for a week’s trial. Elizabeth will assist you the first day, but from day two onwards you learn from scratch. I expect you to be irreproachable in every way, and if I hear _anything_ , be it stealing, rudeness, or even lack of form, from you you will be dismissed and never allowed to set foot in the Payne household again. I understand that you refuse to board, and that inconvenience will impact your salary. You will also be presented with a uniform, of which the price will also be taken off your salary as well. You start tomorrow. Do we have a deal?”

He didn’t hesitate for a second and stretched out his hand to shake, the woman’s hold crushing his bones as he did, but he let none of it show on his face, just a skin-deep smile.

“Yes we do, Mistress.”

* * *

 “You did it!”

He hadn’t been expecting the flying hug, stumbling a little as Sherwin threw himself at him. It took the redhead a few seconds to realise the awkwardness of the situation, promptly pushing away from the newest member of staff and scratching at his neck sheepishly. “I’m sorry, got a little carried away by my enthusiasm there,” he rectified, although he still had unspeakable happiness written all across his face.

“That’s fine, Master Sherwin.”

The words were a little alien on his tongue, but Jonathan reasoned that it was better to start using them straight away. It was going to be a lot of work fitting into this new mould, not made any easier by the terms of his contract, but he felt content.

“I’m sorry, but I must get going now. My… family is going to start worrying about me soon.”

“Oh… yes, of course. Are you sure you don’t want anything before going though?...”

“Young Master,” Miss Liz cut him off, stepping between the two boys. “This isn’t a proper gentleman’s attitude. Jonathan, welcome to the Payne household, you may leave by the side-door. You will be expected here at half past six tomorrow morning. Until then, good evening.”

Her quick and efficient speech wasn’t met with any protestation on Sherwin’s part, his eyes lowered and cheeks reddened from the remark on his attitude. Jonathan nodded a blunt thanks to the maid before making his way down the stairs, finding the side-door the woman had spoken of easily enough. On his way, he passed by a young parlour maid with a strong chin and a sooty apron, to whom he addressed a warm smile. She immediately smiled back and nodded, a reaction he expected wouldn’t have been returned if he looked any less than himself. He ignored it and left through the small wooden door, definitely less grand than the one he had entered through but still of better quality than the old, cardboard-like thing that kept the drafts out back at the shelter.

Jonathan emerged onto a small path that hugged the side of the building and that led to the front path, the one he had previously walked along to get to the main door. Glancing back at the grandiloquent façade, he caught sight of a little movement at one of the windows, a flash of red not quite quick enough to evade his attention hiding behind one of the thin white curtains.

The street he emerged onto was one he recognised, unfortunately confirming his previously elaborated theory that it was a long way from the place he lived currently. He started on his long walk back, thoughts of the last few hours enough to occupy him.

He wasn’t really that shaken by the whole experience, which wasn’t surprising considering the multitude of other situations where he had needed to think on his feet, and if he were to continue with the comparison, this one had been quite mild stress-wise on the scale of things. No, what caught his mind and didn’t make any sense no matter how much he turned them around were the feelings that accompanied it all.

He put his reflection on hold for a second to catch hold of the railings lining the side of an omnibus thundering past before taking it back on, ignoring the dangerously close wheel whirring next to him. All the needless berating that the boy had taken on had seemed unfair to him, but it was only when he had been exposed to the plain-faced insult that the redhead’s mother had issued did he understand that this was not just high standards that the woman was in search of, but rather an actual effort put into the deconstruction of Sherwin’s confidence. Elizabeth may or may not be aboard on this project, it was difficult to tell, but Jonathan had little to no doubt that all the members of the household were at least aware of the fact that Sherwin was treated like a black sheep of sorts.

All this had a certain logic behind it, his anger at the injustice justified and rational as far as he could tell, but there still remained the question of the tugging, hole-like sensation that he felt grow stronger as he travelled away from the aristocrat’s street. Hopping off the moving vehicle a few streets away from his own, he tried to make sense of the feeling. It was as if he felt a certain connection to the other boy, and he found himself more compassionate, more in sync with his feelings than he had with any other person before. Not only that, but that tug in his gut… was it longing?

There wasn’t any more time to think it through; just as the night before he was yet again facing the door, although he felt more guilty than mildly annoyed this time. Peals of children’s laughter could be heard from the outside announcing their and Jess’s presence, as well as the fact that they were obviously safe and sound.

Jonathan sighed in relief, knocking on the door. There was the sound of stomping footsteps, the clatter of the chain, before he was grabbed roughly by the upper arm and pulled into the kitchen.

The door slammed shut, the sound actually making Jonathan jump in fright, something that was very difficult to achieve under normal circumstances. The teenager then pulled her usual chair out on the other side of the table, sitting down abruptly, her face set into a hard, angry and disappointed expression.

“I’m sorry,” he heard himself say.

“You should be.”

There was a beat of silence.

“Can I please explain why I left?”

She nodded.

He was glad that she was understanding enough to let him plead his case before she offered any more judgement. The story was told, details such as the fact that he didn’t have a choice in the matter and the conversation they had had the previous evening amplified, but he also admitted to not having thought to at least secure the house a little more than it was already, or to leave some sign that he was out.

“Well,” she snipped. “I’m glad you at least listen to some things that come out of my mouth. The Payne family, you say?”

She thought for a second, then snapped her fingers, face clearing. “Yes, they’re big in the cotton industry. They own quite a few factories up by the canal, I think. It’s quite a big coincidence that you managed to get a job like that so quickly, even though I’m a bit worried about this ‘trial period’… But please Jo, can you not disappear like that again?”

Her voice had gone solemn even though Jonathan already knew what was coming, returning the look and nodding slowly. She accepted it, lowering her eyes and huffing out a short, stressed breath, slapping a smile onto her face.

“Well, I’ve been through what you have, and I can assure you that there’s only one thing that you can do to impress on your first day working in such a grand place. Jo, are you ready for your first hot bath in months?”

Ah well, he should have seen it coming.

* * *

That night, Jonathan went to bed feeling lighter than he had in months, marvelling at how different his skin texture was now that the inch or so of dirt had been scrubbed off. Jess had been intransigent and had refused to let him bathe himself as she usually did, bringing out a hard brush and a bar of bright yellow soap, not letting him get away until he was well and truly free of dirt. Her rugged application and slightly insane mutterings had scared off the rest of the kids, for once not even demanding a bedtime story before tucking themselves deep in between the blankets. It was some kind of revenge, Jonathan thought grimly, one that he felt he had to endure to cover for his previous actions. She had been scared, even though it would be denied immediately if he were to say so, and he understood, he could imagine the panic that went through her when she came back hole to see him missing. Even though most of the time she spoke to him as if he were his equal, she still cared and worried for him as much as the little ‘uns. It was in her nature, and nothing could be done to change that.

He slipped under the covers, and just as the night before watched the children’s steady breath, the up-and-down of the little bundles under their respective duvets, and waited. Again he heard the sound of the door opening, less discrete than it had been before, and with this the boy drifted into a restless sleep, haunted by dreams of red barn-owls speaking in an accent too pronounced for him to understand and dogs with only one eye barking and growling at Jess’s heels, running for her life from the enraged animals.

* * *

A few miles away, a young boy lay spread out in his large bed, red hair in stark contrast with his white pillow and eyes visibly open, reflecting the light of a lamppost outside as he stared at the hangings above. A cat jumped up onto the sheets, purring and snuggling up to his neck, trying to get as close as possible to the boy. He didn’t move, not reacting to its presence. After a while, he rolled onto his side, away from the animal, pulling his legs up into foetal position. He remained silent for a while longer, looking out of the window with his arms hugging his knees to his chest. The cat had settled, and in the silence that ensued, a handful of whispered words could be heard escaping him:

“What’s wrong with me?”

**Author's Note:**

> Soundtrack: Linkin Park and the Jackson 5. Don’t ask me why, I haven’t a clue.


End file.
